No Rest for the Wicked
by Synonym
Summary: Hibari's waiting on the miracle that never comes. TYL arc, genfic.


**Beware the character deaths. **Seriously.

* * *

**No Rest For The Wicked**

* * *

_Padrone & Cielo_

Hibari gets a message, less than eight minutes before it happens: _don't tell a soul. _He isn't there when they fall; he spends his last night in Japan lifting his glass in a mockery of praise. Reborn doesn't doubt his discretion, he knows - it's one final precaution. For the sake of definitiveness, despite that there were no doubts to begin with. What the Tenth Vongola would call would call fondness, Hibari would call professionalism. Not assurance, an _order._

In the early hours of an Italian morning, he meets Yamamoto Takeshi, also stepping off a plane, one from America. In greeting, Hibari says, "How was your game?" and Yamamoto's eyes flash momentarily - a crack in veneer - with only a steady sense of priority calming his tongue and conflicting mind. He's exhausted, he's dulled - his eyes are lifeless and red, burning in sleeplessness and regret. He's hunched over a suitcase. "Gokudera will never forgive me," he says in a hushed, grave tone. Then, quieter: "I won't forgive myself." And they part ways.

There's an abundant and worrying lack of haste in the Italian base. Not a word of retaliation or strategy is spoken. Everyone shuffles on their feet across graying floors and pays respects to people who can't hear them. Nothing's different when he ventures into the Cavallone mansion, the news of death still fresh and pungent in the air. The men are crowded round a bar-top, raising their glasses, wet faces shining. Dino doesn't bother smiling at his appearance. Instead, resentment surfaces in his eyes at the eternal apathy of his former student. "Kyouya," he chokes out, clutching Enzio and his whip, the last artifacts in his possession of a mentor long gone. "You don't care?"

Hibari wants to scowl. He wants to tell him there's no need. He wants to mercilessly purge the raw humanity Dino's consistently brimming with. Out of respect, and something like atonement, he instead stiffly puts a hand on his teachers shoulder. Then he says monotonously, "It's about time your men started on tactics," which he also passes as a goodbye.

The funeral comes swiftly. They silently march to the ceremony, they take seats and handkerchiefs. Hibari stands at the back, so far behind he can only salvage few of the words the priest is saying. His eyes fall on the guardians, the mourners. The wife and the maid of honour, both restlessly sobbing into Ryohei's shoulders while he keeps motionless hands on their back. His eyes dart right and left, anticipating. They pause on the ground. They stop there - become sad, and frightened. Gokudera holds his sister while she cries for Reborn and he cries for Tsuna. The kids, on request of the girls, are nowhere inside. Restraint muffles every mourners cry. Everyone expects attack from the trees on the right, the left, anywhere possible.

One coffin lies at the front. It's Sawada's - Reborn's body was hoisted over some Milliefiore members shoulders, Ryohei had told them. Tsuna was left as a derisory bundle in the middle of a random street in Turin to rot. The stains from his body had seeped into Gokudera's shirt and dripped from his hands. He'd silently sat in stoic grief, until Yamamoto murmured something to him, something like 'you should get cleaned up' or, if Hibari had been feeling particularly vicious, 'you should have taken better care.' Gokudera had stared at him in alarm, a shadow appearing in his brow. Then he'd stood up and departed, a trail of miniscule blood spots on the floor leading to the Tenth's office.

The Guardian's wait behind. Iemitsu throws them a warning glance before returning to consoling a hysterical Nana, who was blowing her nose into the same tissue since she'd came. Bianchi leads the girls away after sore, outdrawn goodbyes. They're in disarray all over the grounds. Chrome is standing next to the coffin, head bent in prayer. Gokudera is lighting a cigarette as far from it as possible. Not one of them doesn't seem positively petrified and traumatized. Yamamoto sits on the roots of a tree, blinking at the coffin over and over. And Hibari doesn't say a thing.

It's what he was told to do.

* * *

_Tempesta & Foschia_

Hibari waits for weeks upon weeks. He considers a message to Irie Shouichi written in gaps of the others teeth. He considers a threat to him, as though it may make a difference in the light of things. It's forbidden, every word of it. So all he does is make daily trips to Tsunayoshi's grave, waiting on the miracle that never comes. He doesn't know if the plan is behind schedule, or not in motion at all. And something breaks the system they had worked out - bent over plans in the middle of the night, searching for cracks in fate.

Gokudera follows his Tenth to the grave. Burns from electrocution, Shamal had said. He'd wiped his forehead. His eyes.

Under different circumstances, Hibari would have found this painfully inevitable. Now it's terrifying, because unintentional or not, Tsunayoshi would never sacrifice family, no matter what he outcome. He sacrificed himself for them - eighteen bullets to the chest, no battle of boxes or rings, nothing dramatic but the thud when he hit the pavement, Hibari knew. How he'd asked for it. They congregate again, this time in Bianchi's choice church, sulking with wary eyes.

Yamamoto sits at the front, looking lonesome and lost with the rest of his trio gone. Bianchi takes one of his hands and squeezes so tight both their knuckles pale to a ghostly alabaster. Her shoulders shake uncontrollably, but she silently perseveres. Ryohei and Lambo are at the back, and he can hear the boxers voice, can hear him assuring the kid that it will be alright in the end. Everyone else is muddled in the crowd; relations anyone who scarcely knew Gokudera would be certain he wouldn't want here.

Hibari's mind wanders throughout the sermon. Distantly, he's hearing the priest droning on about heaven and life beyond life, _eternal rest grant unto him._ A man in the front row beside Bianchi lets out a low moan and begins crying into his sleeve.

He decides: the plan is simply moving slowly.

**X**

They're sent an empty coffin at dawn only a few days later. Despite it's mystery, Chrome cries out it's owner at the sight, tearful. Her shock sends her to the base's clinic, where she recovers, vaguely, with I-pin consoling her with barren promises. She doesn't speak the rest of the day. She lies on her back and closes her eyes, living in illusion.

Everyone is in constant states of fury and depression, hopelessness and frustration. Only Chikusa musters the stability to haul it outside, and dig the grave, like a loyal servant would do. "Kaki-pii," Ken's voice filters back inside, brimming with grief and loss. "What difference does this really make?" The din of shuffling dirt falters and pauses. Chikusa lets out an audible sigh, and then continues. When Lambo glances out the window, he sees him ruffling the others hair.

"They were both..." he starts, and he shakes his head like a doctor with bad news - it doesn't look good. He spends the night locked inside his room, like he did the night before that and the night before that. Hibari often sees him toying with the Vongola ring, determination lost from his eyes, replaced by the heavy resignation of an elderly veteran of war. A permanent redness clouds the skin on his face from crying and cursing.

The next morning, Hibari finds Chrome at the makeshift grave, her chin stuck on her chest in respect, in sorrow. The toll of constant use of the Mist ring is already evident in jutted cheekbones and hollowed eyes.

"Do you think we'll make it?" she asks in a small, bare voice.

Instantly, "Yes." Hibari almost surprises himself at the speed. She stares up at him, wet eyes wide in something like shock and something like faith.

He drops a sakura blossom on the newly turned soil, and silently steps back inside, feeling a faint sense of smugness and victory.

* * *

_Fulmine & Sole_

His patience is stretched and tested, pulled taut over the following week. He begins hunting on a bloodlust, slaughtering betraying families and following the trails of Milliefiore as an invincible predator, on the premise of their deaths somehow - _somehow -_ leading him to a confrontation with Irie Shouichi. All he wants is revenge, he knows; for waiting like a slave for month after month. For family blood being spilt, not that he'd say it, that he'd ever kill for a comrade, when he's had none to begin with.

They lose countless others. The girls are hidden, along with Fuuta, who rumours say is the next target on Byakuran's list. I-pin and Lambo are condemned to the soldiering life once more, and the rest are all fighting dissipation from all the looming insanity they cling to, all the turmoil and havoc.

Lambo is under the impression he's a brave soul for charging out into confrontation with the enemy. Hibari knows better, knows it's stupid, it's pointless. When he sneers down at the kids corpse all he sees is wasted days on training, wasted air on a meaningless life. And he shows up at the funeral for reasons he can't construct. He tells Ryohei, when he haughtily shakes him by the jacket that, he's protecting the girls from any attack. He's never even done work in defense for anyone other than himself before.

Bovino suits throw their family affronted glares. They curse the fallen Vongola name, a dying breed living in Italy's dankest corners, it's hiding-holes and mansions that they shouldn't have entitlement to anymore. They forget they once reigned over the mafia world, they forget Tsunayoshi was the King of Italy not too long ago. He gave them their reputation and status, he took their bratty child from them and took care of him by himself. A man goes far enough to badmouth Tsuna before his loyal hounds, and Yamamoto is taken out after punching him across the jaw and breaking some of his teeth.

The remaining family weep, swear on vengeance in the back of their minds, one they'll never claim. Kyoko falls to pieces midway through the ceremony, and Hibari is close enough to Haru to see the gun holstered at her thigh when she leans over to comfort the woman. They place a bouquet on the grave and stumble back to the car with Hibari behind them, doing his part.

He is, in all honesty, growing tired of the deja-vu. He blames this on the way he shivers on the last step from the graveyard.

**X**

His vow to avert any more Vongola funerals is cut short. In spite of brazen mannerisms and irritating friendliness, Hibari has a learned respect for Ryohei Sasagawa. He even respects his death - killed while taking a Milliefiore Guardian with him. The wake passes in a blur.

He remembers the mourners toasting, the way the close-knit Sasagawa family disappeared continuously for long minutes, reappearing with bloodshot, empty eyes. For most of it, Kyoko sat holding a full wine-glass, saying nothing, no movement of her body or gaze. Bianchi worriedly spoke to her, seeking response, her hands sifting through the others hair. Gokudera's Storm ring flashes on her finger; Ryohei's Sun ring flashes on Kyoko's. She doesn't tear her eyes from it once.

Fuuta and I-pin sit bunched together in a noiseless embrace. She says, "You shouldn't be here," over and over, and he hushes her like a child. Yamamoto and Colonello are conversing quietly, the former looking run-down, emptier than Hibari's last sight of him. There are many partners to the cut on his chin now, all adorning his face unpleasantly. Dino has Haru held close. Hibari wasn't even aware they'd ever spoken.

All he does is sit facing the window overlooking the graveyard, waiting on rebirth.

* * *

_Foschia & Pioggia_

He's there when Chrome falls. He quickly finishes the job and carries her back to the base. When he lifts her into the garden, people call from back inside.

"Where is she?" Ken yells, eyes bright. His breaths are rapid, and he pushes Hibari aside to hurry for evidence - her body is pale and stiff, laid cautiously beside Mukuro's now old grave. He drops onto his knees in despair. Chikusa appears in the doorway. He presses a shovel into Hibari's hands, and brushes by him into the garden. Hibari's jaw is tense in defiance. He glances at where she is - more fragile than he'd ever seen her before.

So they dig.

"She'd have wanted this," Ken mutters to himself. He looks up, eyes moving from Hibari to Chikusa, searching for response. "Right? Next to Mukuro-san. She was never the same after..."

Hibari thrusts the edge of the shovels metal plate against his throat. Stray dirt tumbles down Ken's shirt.

"Stop that."

He does. Silence is a welcome replacement.

When the job is done Hibari waits a moment, head bowed, in an imitation of her, before throwing the shovel back at Chikusa's feet and striding back inside. Ken and Chikusa sleep beside the graves that night. In the morning, Yamamoto and Bianchi see them both, and understand. They visit them in the afternoon, Yamamoto with their breakfast and Bianchi with flowers, her face twisted into a wince. "From the kids, too," she says to the dirt. I-pin was sent back to her master in China; Fuuta, back into hiding with the girls.

Hibari sits in Tsunayoshi's former office, reading over instructions for the hundredth time, searching for flaws and fixes.

**X**

Yamamoto lasts surprisingly long on his own. It's entirely imminent, when he could never function quite properly without the other two their as a reason to. Only a matter of time - because he never stopped grabbing three beers instead of one. He never stopped walking by Tsuna and Gokudera's offices to say hello. He never stopped talking to every Vongola grave like eventually it would talk back.

Obscure relations crowd the ceremony. Both Tsuyoshi and he are mourned by many more Yamamoto's, well-wishers who all raised their glasses and said almost in unison, it's a better place. Hibari wanders through the hall by himself, feeling an apathetic callous develop at the repetitive situation. Yamamoto wanted it; always looking bored and battered. This was relief, Hibari thinks, when he should be thinking nothing of the sort.

He steps into the parking lot, only to be slammed against it by Bianchi. Her mascara is bled, a circular blur beneath her piercing eyes. She clutches onto his shirt tightly. "Why do you come to all these funerals if you never fucking mourn?" she hisses, blotches of red taking over her pale complexion. "Where do you get off?" Her eyes are stony, and they soften fast. "... what is it you know?" she mutters gently. Hibair's mouth is pressed into a thin line. She understands his silence, and bursts into tears.

In something like repentance, he lets her cry into his chest.

_

* * *

_

_Sorella & Fratello_

She leave one day without a word to him, bundled in rosary beads, ingredients and boxes. Hibari watched her stride outside and pause at the set of graves. She turns to look at him apologetically. "I can't keep doing this," she says loud enough for him to hear. He'd known it was coming, anyway.

He nods at her, nothing else.

**X**

Hibari's mercilessly hunted the following weeks. Recruitment - from what he heard, Byakuran is hugely impressed. He has to take care of any followers hastily before meeting Dino.

The Cavallone mansion is silent. His footsteps are deafening. Every one of Dino's men is gone, none stirring from their places on the marble floor. When Hibari walks, his shoes squeak obnoxiously with the blood from them all. He grimaces and continues forwards.

Dino is sitting on the Head Chair, as always.

His chest is littered with bullet-holes. His head is eerily drooped on his shoulder, mouth hung open, stained in crimson. Paper is stuffed inelegantly into his clenched hand. It reads: _you need us more than we need you._

* * *

_Nuvola & Il Finale Atto_

Hibari calls the girls. When Kusakabe answers it, he says, "You're fired," and he hangs it up again, ignoring the indignant splutters sent his way. He straightens his tie. Runs a hand through his hair.

Then he checks his watch.

Three.

Two.

One -

**X**

And he's home again.

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own KHR because as you can see, it would be a goddamn bloodbath.

**AN:** I actually think this is kind of a happy fic. You see the end there? It's all good in Hibari's hood, guys. And thank god for it, otherwise another shitty act would probably be him doing a Yamamoto and jumping off Namimori.

Kusakabe only had a cameo because this fic was about Hibari and not their super bromance. Apologies all around.

And I know. KHR genfic?

EWW.


End file.
